Gatherers of the Night
by Grethor
Summary: A young Acolyte of the Gathering of Shadows insults Lucien Lachance while on a routine mission, sending his organization into a blood feud with the Dark Brotherhood. Not really a DB fanfic, focuses on the GS and the main characters sturggles inside the GS
1. Chapter 1

Gathers of the Night

**Gatherers of the Night**

Chap 1

Xanderis sat on the Leyawiin guard tower gazing into the blinking void. The lights of the city and its populace gathered under him like fireflies over a forest lake. He squinted towards the castle, mentally preparing himself for the task at hand. As a brisk wind blew in across the calm city, he leapt from his perch into the night. As he flew down, through the darkness, he recalled the origins of his organization and its intent on Nirn.

_The Gathering of Shadows is an organization dedicated to secrecy, stealth, and purging the Tamriel of its corrupting elements. They have existed for many generations, silencing the wicked, destroying the immoral, and maintaining equilibrium in the world. When souls reach a level of corruption that threatens the balance contained in Tamriel, the Gathering arrives to purge it from the fabric of Nirn._

I was sent as the recon party for our mission to capture the Countess of Leyawiin. My task was to "remove" the perimeter guards so our strike team could capture the countess. As I silently crept up the walls of castle Leyawiin, I renewed my detect life spell, mindful to watch for magical alarms. I noticed the guards were finishing their conversation, and moving towards my intended insertion point. As they approached my position the Dark Elf declared, "I am going back to the guard tower, _serrah_, check the wall, then come back and I'll break open another bottle." The taller one slurred, "Alright, Hiccup! I'll do that, then I will win back my septims, Hiccup!" The tall one began his hike around the wall, and continued towards my entry point.

As he staggered towards me, I overheard the taller one mutter, "Dam Grey Prince, taking a dive so Dragonheart could win. Hiccup! Hrrumph! Hiccup! Must've been that dam Orum gang. Hiccup!"

As he stumbled closer, I slowly crept up the wall towards him. As I passed over a jutting stone,

My katana's sheath scraped the stone, the screech permeating the still night.

The Nord guard bumbled closer, mumbling "Shouldn't have had that Telivani Ale, dam Dark Elf!"

I moved faster up the wall, intent on silencing this interloper. As he neared the edge, I moved up and unsheathed my dagger, waiting for the moment to strike. Just as he was about to gaze over on my precarious perch, he hiccupped, and assured himself that it was only rats in the shadows. I always thought that fortune favored the bold, but what a stroke of luck! As he turned around, I leapt over the edge and grabbed his face, stabbing the dagger into the base of his neck. His life essence splashed across my leather armor, covering face and neck in droplets of blood. I pulled an arm back to shield my face and used the other to drag his corpse over the battlements. His limp body scratched the stone with a screech, warning the forest of his arrival. I glanced around and then flung his body to the canopy below. I snuck over the ramparts, silently moving towards his accomplice. I opened the door to the tower and snuck inside. The Dunmer sat in a chair, leaning against the wall, reading a copy of the Black Horse Courier. Ha ha! What a foolish and inept guard! I moved towards him, swinging my sword with righteous vengeance. As his severed head sailed across the room I recalled my oath to the Gathering.

_We purge the world of the wicked and the corrupt, to protect the innocent and restore balance to Tamriel._

Typically, I abhorred the killing of the innocent, but, in pursuit of the wicked, I knew the righteous would return to the house of the Gods and their souls would be forgiven. I moved the body to a bed and strode through the next door. As I snuck along the second, tranquil terrace, I stopped to check for other guards. As I glanced around the deceptively silent battlements, I was amazed at the lack of illumination on these guard towers. As I clenched my fist, I decided that these sentries will be "rewarded" for their incompetence! I again checked the battlements for signs of life, before sending our "signal" up into the stratosphere.

Seracon, Aranarth, Varona and Dark-Seeker broke from their hiding place in hills and sprinted towards the Castle.

"Hhhh, why does Xanderis have to showboat on every mission?" breathed Seracon. "Why does the Crow caw when no one is around hear," dictated Aranarth.

"To assert his dominance to himself and reinforce his psyche" replied Varona.

"Silence! Focus on our assignment or perish in a hail of arrows" squawked Dark-Seeker. As they scrambled up the wall, Dark-Seeker scurried ahead to reach the apex of the battlements, followed by Seracon, then Varona, then Aranarth.

I reached out and grabbed Dark-Seeker's claws and lifted him over the edge, "Thank you Xanderis, but next time be quicker with your work."

"Yes Serrah," leered Xanderis.

"Reply to me with that tone, elf, and I'll cut off your ears"

"Yes Sir," I replied, beaten.

"Help the others, Vanquisher," ordered Dark-Seeker.

As the others reached our position, I glanced around the castle, wary of shadows in the dark. I nodded to Dark-Seeker, and he began the briefing.

"We musssst break the seal on her window, then we musssst enter the chamber and silence and parylze the detail. Seracon, you must wrap her over your shoulders, and we will then, return to base. Xanderisssss, you will keep watch."

_As the others moved to break the magical seal on the countess' I regretted that Dark-Seeker was too duty bound, too focused on success, to enjoy my careful execution of our "problems". I regretted that my skills of death and assassination were relegated to insertion and assistance in large operations, not my own missions. I only wish, I would receive my own assignment. What I wouldn't give to plan, then "execute" my own operation, one worthy of my lengthily service to Talos_.

A squeak of a hinge pulled me from my reverie, and focused my attention at the mission at hand. I scanned the courtyard for the source of the disturbance. A drunken cook slurred his speech as he dragged an empty barrel across the soaked ground.

"Thhhh, Dam Countesssthsss! Why in the hell, Heh! Heh! Heh!" the cook giggled uncontrollably for a few seconds, before composing herself. "Why in the hell does she throw, Hiccup! Why does she throw these huge parties, that I have to, Hiccup! Have to clean up after." She continued to slur. "This is Ridiculous! Yeeeah, Ridiculous! I oughta tell her that, that witch." The cook shouted to the starry night.

I debated whether to end the life of this intoxicated castle hand, but decided enough innocent blood had been spilt, and left her to her inebriated wanderings. A magical crack erupted as the ward on the countesses' chambers broke, along with the window.

Our team moved through the window, firing magika at the startled members of the royal chambers. Dark-Seeker unleashed a fire ball at the guards flowing into the countess's chambers. They flew back into the hall; the fireball searing their flesh and blinding their eyes. Seracon let fly a volley of 2 _shruikens_(Ninja Star) at the remaining guards, striking them in the neck and sending them to the cold stone below. In the confusion, Varona moved to subdue the startled count with a paralyze spell. As she neared the Count and readied her spell, the Count drew his sword. She moved to draw her silver short sword, while reaching out with her spell hand. But the Count was faster, grabbing her hand, twising her arm behind her and striking her with the hilt. As she fell to the icy floor, Aranarth launched a damage fatigue spell at the distracted count. As he collapsed onto his bed, wearied by the elf's power, Dark Seeker grabbed the terrified countess and moved to the window. As he reached the gilded entrance, alarms began to ring out throughout the castle.

"Take the countesssss," commanded Dark-Seeker. Seracon moved in, sweeping the countess over his shoulders and making his way for the exit.

Aranarth retrieved the unconscious Varona and moved to follow Seracon. Dark-Seeker drew his katana and moved to dispatch the next wave of gaurds. As Aranarth reached the window he shouted, "Do you need assistance sir?"

"No Eviscerator, evacuate with Varona and the team, I will distract the guards," hollered Dark-Seeker.

Seracon exited the window first, and I moved to help Seracon with his labor. As I hurled the countess over my shoulder, Seracon muttered "weighs as much as a dremora, Sheesh!."

[As the guards entered the room, Dark-Seeker continued to move towards the ornate fissure in the stone wall. The guards began to encircle Dark-Seeker as he neared the window.

"Caught in the act and no gold to pay your fine, eh? Well then, its off to jail with ya!" shouted the captain of the Leyawiin guard.

"I won't pay for the crimes of the wicked, you servant of that corrupt Count," roared Dark Seeker, pointing at the unconscious Count.

"Then pay with your blood," spat the Captain.

The first guard attacked sword high over his head, preparing to cleave the assassin in two. Dark-Seeker blocked the attack with a sideways thrust, and deflected the blow to the right. His blade slid along the length of the guards saber, emanating a metallic screech. As the guards sword move to his left, Dark-Seekers spun his blade around to face the chest of his attacker, and thrust in. His blade easily separated the rings of the guard's chain mail and slicing into his abdomen. The blade impales him from tip to hilt as Dark-Seeker moves toward his slain foe.

"May Talos show mercy on your soul," whispers Dark-Seeker as he twists his blade in the gut of the guard. He then removes his blade from its grisly sheath, spraying the tapestries with blood. As he reaches the center of the guards circle, he readies his blade for a new assault.

The next guard unleashes a sideways power attack, aiming to cleave off Dark-Seeker's head. Dark-Seeker blocks this blow, reflects it towards the ceiling and smacks his assailants face with his hilt. As that guards staggers backward, blood rushing from his ruptured nose, Dark-Seeker sends a roundhouse kick at the chest of his next attacker, sending him into the arms of his comrades. He dodges to the left of a fourth guard's right hook and twirls to his left. He swings his blade and severs that guard's right leg, launching the disabled sentinel into the air. Dark-Seeker moves his blade to ready position, and strides towards the window. The remaining guards move to destroy Dark-Seeker, for his treachery to the county. But, before they can engage him, he unleashes a _endan _(smoke bomb). The resulting flash blinds the guards and fills the room with noxious fumes. He exited the room, and resealed the window, trapping the sentinels in the poisoned room.]

While this onslaught unfolded, Aranarth had climbed up the stone, and I again had relieved him of his load, and set Varona on the ramparts next to the Countess.

"Aranarth, where is Dark-Seeker?" I asked, unsure if I wanted to hear the fate of our illustrious leader.

"He is dispatching guards so we may move our cargo, Xanderis." Aranarth sternly replied. "Seracon, secure our escape."

Seracon readied his bow and fired, sending our line to a large southern oak. We slung Varona on Aranarth's shoulders and let him sail down into the void. As Seracon prepared to leave our impending doom, he muttered, "If Dark-Seeker doesn't make it, I claim his black steed, Carantar, that thing is like a Skyrim fog! Fast as thunder, light as a feather, a great beast of the night."

"Well," I retorted, "don't count out that crazy spiked headed lizard yet, he is quite good with that blade." And with that, Dark-Seeker climbed up to our position, as Seracon readied his rope.

"Fire the line, we have 2 minutes before the guards undo that window and capture us." bellowed Dark-Seeker, panting heavily.

"We are already ready to go sir," impassively states Seracon.

"Go Then!" I yelled, kicking him off into the night.

We each hurled down the escape line, as alarms continued to blare, and smoke rose from the royal chambers. Guards ran to their posts, searching the night for their terrifying assassins.

We reached the ground and moved into the forest, smugly assured of success in our righteous mission.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: When reading the fight between Lucien and Xanderis, find and play Pirates of the Caribbean music and listen to it. Additionally, I am modifying the DB storyline, so that all of the current members have not seen the night mother directly, she is kind of like sithis, they believe in her, but she is not a ghost like in the game.

Also, since I didn't mention this before, **I don't own Oblivion** or any of the official characters, places, etc…

**______________________________________________**

**Chapter Two**

We careened down our rappel line toward the other shore of the Niben, confident in our success. Our rappel line led us over the path of a Hammerfellian freighter, severely surprising the lone sailor in the crows nest.

As Seracon flew past him, he began to yell, "Pa. . . Pa. . . Pirates!"

Alarm bells began to ring out across the ship, to join the cacophony of sound erupting from the castle. As I flew past this startled sentry, I gave him a swift kick in the head, sending him over the railing of the crow's nest, to land in the cold river below. After my vicious attack, Dark-Seeker threw another smoke bomb, enveloping the deck of the vessel in a thick, viscous fog. The crew scurried around like ants in a flood, moving around and trying to navigate with this difficult distraction.

We eventually reached the other side, getting a running start on our escape. We moved along the path into Blackwood, mindful of our surroundings, ever vigilant for the stray legion forester ready to half out little endeavor. I took the lead of our group, followed by Aranarth (carrying Varona), then Seracon (carrying the countess), and hurried towards our encampment, I noticed a figure moving through the trees. His purple aura flickered in my vision as I watched him with detect life enchanted eyes.

I whispered back to Dark-Seeker, "I believe it's a lone traveler, sir, can I engage him?"

"Halt!" hissed Dark-Seeker, raising his open hand at a right angle.

The group shuffled to a halt, crouching to a ready position.

Dark-Seeker pointed at the figure moving through the forest, then pointed at me.

"Xanderis, this traveler **must** not be allowed to identify our movements to the guards," directed Dark-Seeker. "End him, but do it with your blade. This assassination must be quick and silent, we must not reveal our position to the authorities. We will move on to camp, best of luck to you, Vanquisher."

With those words of praise, the team moved off into the night, and Xanderis moved closer to his target.

The figure continued to move along the forest trail, glancing around occasionally, suspicious of every sound. Xanderis cast an anti-detect life spell, and climbed a tree, planning to take his quarry from above. He crept up the tree, slowly grabbing the limbs of the swamp oak, on a steady climb into the canopy of Leyawiin county. He moved along a sturdy branch halfway up the tree, the leaves brushing droplets on his face, soaking his leather armor and blinding his vision. He stopped and griped his legs around the tree, and swung himself down, directly behind his prey. He drew his sword, a soft schiiitk! emanating from his sheath.

Lucien Lachance spun around, startled by a katana being drawn from its sheath. Instinctively, he drew his silver shortsword to his face; he blocks the assassin's right hook, a metallic ring, permeating the still forest. He pushes back the blade and takes his own swing, barely deflected by his foe.

Xanderis drops from branch, landing on his feet; his blade held high, ready to face this trained opponent.

Lucien held his blade parallel to the ground, ready to parry the blows of his mysterious attacker. But who was this assassin in the night? Morag Tong? The Whisper of Stros M'Kai? A relative of a former mark? Non of these labels fit the creature before him, a five and a half foot dark elf, clad in black leather, with a face as dark as a mountain pond, and birdlike features. His beaklike nose especially, gave his face an avian feel, as if a black hawk, katana held in its wings, was challenging him to a duel of skill.

Xanderis twirled his blade on either side of his body, back and forth, 3 times, a low whine emitting from his akaviri blade. He positioned his blade, both arms overhead, the hilt towards his opponent, steeling his frame for the battle.

The dark figure before him was clad in black robes, a blood red hand stamped on his chest, oozing malice and evil into the air around the combatants. The figure grinned a malevolent grin, his face revealing his passion for death and injury. His words were like a velvet fog flowing towards Xanderis, praising the Night Mother for a worthy opponent of his "illustrious skill".

"Hail Sithis, the Dread Father!" cried the figure, while lunging at Xanderis, sword swinging from left to right, ready to cleave him in two.

Xanderis ducks under the blow and deflected it skyward, stepping around, then behind his attacker, readying himself for the killing blow.

"_He truly is a skilled warrior, most assassins don't react well to a sideway power attack. They typically absorb the blow, leaving them off balance. But this _nightwalke_r deflected the blow, and then moved behind me, What Skill!_" Lachance announced to his own inner monologue.

Lachance rolls forward, avoiding Xanderis killing thrust to the neck, then spins his blade around, ready to parry Xanderis' low left swipe. Lachance blocks the blow with his right hand, and with the other reaches out with his best spell, ready to subdue his attacker. But Xanderis is ready, using his right knee in an upward thrust to send Lachance's hand and spell, skyward; killing a nearby oak with crippling frost. In Lachance's moment of confusion, Xanderis thrusts with the hilt of his katana, in a straight punch, striking Lachance in the nose. As Lachance recoils from the blow, Xanderis spins around, launching a roundhouse kick at Lachance's chest, sending him flying off the trail into the brush.

Lachance slams into a tree, losing his grip on his tempered blade, his head swimming with visions of distorted vines and trees and water. The trees and mushrooms swirled in his vision coalescing into a black mass in the center of his vision. Suddenly, a metallic bar erupted from the shape, aimed straight at his head.

His quarry ducked out of the way, as Xanderis thrust with his akavari blade, its diamond hard tip impaling into a great Leyawiin oak. He jerked on his blade, trying to remove his sword from its earthly sheath.

Lachance rolled out of the way of his assailants attack, picking up his sword and leaping to his feet in one swift motion. He dashes at his immobilized opponent, swinging his blade over his head.

Xanderis heaves on his blade, fearful of this wide-eyed opponent running towards him. With a loud Crack! His blade loosened itself from the tree and swung itself up to meet his attacker's weapon with a metallic Clang!

Their blades met in the air with a metallic Crash! Each of the blades sent sparks flying in either direction. They pushed and heaved, ready to capitalize on any weakness from their opponent.

Simultaneously, each warrior drew their spell hands up, and both shot dark magika at each other sending themselves flying into the air.

"Ahhhhhh!" screamed Xanderis, as his quarry's Ice ball sent him flying head over heels, until he clotheslined his legs around a branch. He fell down to the ground, knocking the wind from his freezing lungs.

"Urrrr!" barked Lucien, thrown through the air by his opponents shock spell, flying into a small hoard of mushrooms.

They each drew themselves upward, searching for his, personal blade. Xanderis spotted his blade skewering a small oak tree. Lucien spotted his blade, pointed skyward, in a field of mushrooms.

Each figure reached out his spell hand and summoned his blade to him via telekinesis. Drawing their blades in front of their faces, the assassins steeled themselves for their final contest.

Lachance pushed down on his opponents blade, determined to put his silver blade through the scalp of his nefarious assailant.

Xanderis ducks down, tilting his blade back, letting his opponents weapon slide off and away from his body. Xanderis swung his blade around and smacked his assailant in the face with the hilt of his katana. As his opponent recoiled, again, from another hit to the face, Xanderis twirls his katana and slams down its point into the foot of his attacker, its blade slicing through the skin, flesh, bone, oozing blood.

Xanderis outstretched his hand preparing a paralysis spell for his wounded and distracted opponent. He grabs one of his assailant's arms and activates the spell, sending his dark magika coursing through his adversary's body.

"I am the darkness, I am the shade in the sun, I am the void in the night, I am a vanquisher of the Gathering of Shadows, and you, my wily opponent, you rascally ranger of the night, have drawn your final breath," Xanderis seethed.

With that tirade finished, Xanderis clasped his opponent's right shoulder with his left hand, and with his right hand steadied his blade at his enemies' gut.

Xanderis hissed, "Say hi to Mehrunes Dagon for me you Breton cur," before plunging his katana into the stomach of his antagonist, twisting the blade for maximum effect.

Lucien couldn't cough, his mouth frozen open in an angry yell, the blood from his wound clogging his throat, hampering his breathing. He saw white spots all over his vision, while the edges begun to fade to black. He grew sleepy, barely able to keep his eyes open, glancing at his smirking opponent.

Xanderis withdrew his hand, and violently removed his sword, spraying Lachance's blood all across the mushroom patch. He spun around, breaking into a jog as made his way towards the encampment.

His opponents spell wore off, and Lucien collapsed on the ground, trying to calm his mind enough to cast a healing spell. He thought of the Night Mother, and her cold deathly embrace, and wondered if he would finally meet the dread father.

As his mind began to fade to black, he heard a voice in his head whisper, "No Lucien, my child, it is not your time." Could the Night Mother really be speaking to him, could she be granting her devotee a new chance at life? He nodded his head, confirming to this voice that he intended to fight this mortal wound. His vision continued to shrink, until all he could see was an imperial woman with a large halo of darkness above her head, blotting out the stars, and verifying his suspicions about this women's true nature. A large blue light enveloped his vision as he lost consciousness.

When Lachance opened his eyes, he was flying along the ground, the stars twinkling brightly in his obscured vision. He knew now that the night mother had granted his wish, that long forgotten hope he had put aside long ago to commit himself to his "rather unique family".

Christina Vivio carried her injured patient along the path towards Leyawiin, wondering how someone could sustain such injuries without succumbing to Dagon's will. She eventually reached the gates of Leyawiin, and flagged down a legionnaire to assist her.

"Help! I found this poor soul in the forest, he need a healer, Badly!" yelled Christina at the stable hand. "Fetch a healer, Now!"

"Sweet, Sweet Mother, wrap me in your cold, loving embrace," murmured Lucien, delirious from his wounds, before he slipped into unconsciousness.


End file.
